Goodwin was indignant at the conduct of his room-mate, for the third lieutenant was not only opposed to smoking on principle, but the fumes of tobacco were intensely offensive to him; and there was no doubt that, in the confined space of the state room, insufficiently ventilated, while all the openings in the deck were closed during the gale, the smoke would make him “as sick as a horse.”  He was a noble-minded, manly youth, and had all a boy’s detestation for tattling and tale-bearing.  He did not like to go on deck and inform the principal of the conduct of Pelham, but he could not submit to the indignity cast upon him.  He went out into the cabin, and threw himself upon the cushioned divan, under the stern ports of the ship.

This would have been a very satisfactory place to sleep under ordinary circumstances; but Goodwin had hardly secured a comfortable position, before the heavy rolling and pitching of the vessel tumbled him off, and he measured his length on the cabin floor—­a very undignified situation for a third lieutenant.  He picked himself up in the darkness, and tried it again, but with no better success than before.  He had fully intended to go on deck and inform the principal of the misconduct of Pelham, which had driven him from his room; but he shrank from the task.

What Goodwin was attempting to do on the divan many of the officers were striving to do in their berths, though with better success than attended his efforts.  It was not an easy matter to stay in the berths; and this done, the situation was far from comfortable.  Avoiding the rude fall on the one side, the occupant was rolled over against the partition on the other side.  Sleep, in anything more than “cat naps,” was utterly impracticable, for as soon as the tired officer began to lose himself in slumber, he was thumped violently against the pine boards, or was roused by the fear of being tumbled out of his berth.

Mr. Lowington comprehended the situation of the students, and when the topsails and courses had been reefed, he called up all the stewards, and sent them through the after cabin and steerage, to ascertain the condition of the boys, and to give them the benefit of certain expedients known to old voyagers for such occasions.  Jacobs, the steward of the after cabin, entered to perform his duty.  He had no light, not even a lantern; for fire is so terrible a calamity at sea, that every lamp was extinguished by the stewards at ten o’clock, and no light was allowed, except in the binnacle, without the special permission of the principal Even the captain could not allow a lamp to be lighted after hours.

Jacobs went to all the state rooms on the port side first, and pulled up the berth sacks above the front of the bunks, so as to form a kind of wall, to keep the occupant from rolling out.  A bundle of clothing was placed on the inside of the berth, and the body was thus wedged in, so as to afford some relief to the unstable form.  Pelham’s room was the second one on the starboard side, and Jacobs came to it at last, in his humane mission.  He opened the door, and started back with unfeigned astonishment to see the lamp lighted, and the fourth lieutenant puffing his cigar as leisurely as the violent motion of the ship would permit.